"Oh, come on."

"I already told you – no."

"Why NOT? Come on, it's not like you've got anything better to do!"

Draco smirked at the increasingly agitated black-haired boy in front of him. "How do you know, Zabini?"

Blaise looked like he was about to explode. His face was a mottled purple. Draco saw him grit his teeth and tense his broad shoulders. Blaise expelled his breath slowly and set his jaw. "All I'm asking you is—"

"Come off it!" yelled Draco in exasperation. "I am not going to help you get Granger!"

"Look, I've told you! I'm not having any luck with her, and if you just put in a good word for me with your annoying girlfriend… Just mention to Pansy that I'm…you know, a great dancer, good in bed – whatever it is girls want to hear. She'll let her friends know, trust me. Girls love to gossip. It'll get to Granger eventually."

Draco goggled at him. "How the hell am I supposed to know whether or not you're good in bed?"

Blaise whirled around. "No, but – oh." Realization dawned on his face. "Ohhh, right. That's no good." He thought for a moment. "Well, the dancing bit then."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You think I should clue her in about all those nights we spent doing the salsa up in the boys' dormitories."

Blaise looked aghast. "Draco, please," he hissed under his breath, glancing around to see if anyone was within earshot. "It was just that once."

Draco sighed. "What is up with you, anyway? I thought we agreed years ago that Granger's a pathetic excuse for a witch. And ugly, too."

"She's NOT ugly, she's gorgeous," snapped Blaise.

"Gorgeous?" snorted Draco. "I really hadn't noticed."

"Then you really haven't been looking," stated Blaise without a trace of embarrassment. "She's lovely. She's funny, she's dead clever, and she's gorgeous."

"No wonder she's not into you, then."

"I just can't understand it!" wailed Blaise. "I have tried everything I can think of, and she still won't even look at me."

Draco eyed Blaise warily. "You didn't do that thing with your tongue, did you? Because I've told you before, you look like you're picking at something that's stuck between your teeth."

"It's sexy and predatory! I am part-vampire, you know," said Blaise with dignity.

"Yeah, only because you manage to drop that fact into every conversation we have."

Blaise stared darkly at Draco. "Since when did you become such an expert on relationships, anyway?"

Draco shrugged. "I haven't. I do have a girlfriend, though. Which is more than I can say for you.'

Blaise laughed at this. "Explain to me why you haven't broken up with her again."

Draco sighed. "I don't know. Partly because I think it's funny, waiting to see how much longer she'll let herself remain in total agony. Does she honestly think I can't tell that she's bored to tears, even when we're snogging?"

"And you're not taking it personally?"

"No," said Draco, shrugging. "Sometimes two people just aren't right for each other. And then you break it off. But for whatever reason, she won't. I have no idea why." He spoke with the air of a boy who knew that for every girl who didn't want him, there were at least fifty others who did.

"Granger's the one for me. I just know she is," said Blaise with conviction.

"If she was," said Draco – not unkindly – "don't you think she'd have seen it by now, too?"

Blaise didn't say anything at all.

"Oh, honestly, Ronald! We've been through this before!" Hermione heard herself let her breath out in an exasperated hiss.

"So tell me again. I've forgotten."

"I can't believe you want to talk about this now of all times."

"And I can't believe you won't just answer the question."

Hermione stopped in her tracks and turned to face the direction of what she thought was her boyfriend. It was a bit hard to tell, as they were both hidden by the Invisibility Cloak. She and Ron were on their way to the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. The Forest would have been ideal, but considering the behavior of the centaurs last term, both of them thought it would be best to steer clear.

"Ronald Weasley! For the very last time, I do NOT like Blaise Zabini! And I do NOT think he likes me either!" Hermione was shaking from the cold and from anger. This night was supposed to be romantic and special, and Ron had been pestering her about Blaise of all things for the past half an hour.

"But I bet you think he's attractive. Don't you, Hermione?"

Hermione closed her eyes and prayed for patience. "Look, Ron – You are the only man to whom I am attracted. Blaise is okay-looking. But I don't think black hair is all that great, and besides – his teeth are too close together."

"What?" said Ron, startled.

"Well, they must be awfully close together. The poor dear always seems to have something stuck between his teeth. He sits there and picks his teeth with his tongue." She shuddered. "It's quite gross, actually."

"Ewww," said Ron. "Sounds like it." He sounded disturbed, but Hermione thought she detected a faint note of relief as well. Ron was so ridiculously possessive sometimes.

"Now promise me that you won't say another word about Blaise for the rest of the night," she demanded.

"Fine." Hermione could practically feel him rolling his eyes at her. She loved Ron, she really did – but sometimes she just wished he would trust her a bit more. She could name any number of boys at Hogwarts of which Ron had, at one point, been unreasonably jealous. Wrapped up in these thoughts that she didn't notice when Ron stopped walking – and so consequently she ran smack into him.

"Sorry," they said at the same time.

"Why have we stopped?" asked Hermione. "Are we there?"

"Yeah," she heard him say. "This is it."

Hermione stared around. It wasn't the Forbidden Forest, but it may as well have been. The area was densely wooded, except for a small clearing in the middle. The brilliant, full moon's light spilled down through it and made the snow look as pure as untouched parchment.

"D'you reckon we can take the cloak off now?" asked Ron.

"Uh…right. Okay, then." Now that it was nearly time for the ritual, she was feeling a bit nervous. Perhaps she should have researched it a bit more carefully…

Ron whipped the cloak off and – "AAAHHHH!" A piercing scream rent the quiet of the night.

Hermione whirled around, her heart hammering wildly in her ribcage. She gasped as she saw who had screamed. Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy were standing not even fifteen feet away from them.

Pansy rushed forward toward Hermione and Ron, who was standing still looking absolutely thunderstruck.

"Where the HELL did you two come from?" hissed Pansy. "You weren't here ten seconds ago, we would have seen you! You just came out of nowhere!"

Draco strode up behind Pansy and smirked at the sight of the invisibility cloak in Ron's hands. "Well, well, well… I might have known."

Ron flushed bright red. "Look, this is none of your business. Hermione and I were just..."

Draco snorted. "I don't care what you and Granger have been up to. I care about that cloak. It's Potter's, isn't it?" His gray eyes sparkled with malice. "Don't even bother to answer me, I know it's his. I know you couldn't afford one, Weasel."

"And as for Granger here," piped up Pansy. "She's probably not even witch enough to know what it is. Stupid mudblood," she spat.

Granger was practically shaking with rage. "How dare you call me that! You stupid, foul-tempered hag!"

Pansy whipped her wand out of the pocket of her robe. "Oh, you'd better be prepared for some serious trouble, Granger!"

Draco wanted nothing more than to shake Pansy by the shoulders. What the hell was she thinking? Granger was the best duelist in Hogwarts, and although it took a lot to provoke her, once provoked her temper was formidable. Pansy was going to spend the rest of her days as a toad or a canary or a ferr… But no, he wasn't going to think about that.

Granger drew out her wand as well and aimed it at Pansy. She drew in a breath but before she had time to say anything Draco had rushed up and grabbed her from behind, away from Pansy. She gasped in anger and turned to scratch, kick, bite, whatever it took to get out of his grasp. Draco held on tight, however, and made sure to pin her wrists so that she couldn't use her wand.

The Weasel, looking thoroughly incensed, snarled and rushed toward Draco – but managed to slip on an icy patch and fall flat onto his stomach so hard that it momentarily knocked the wind out of him.

Granger, meanwhile, managed to wrench her right wrist out of his grasp and shot a hex at Pansy. Pansy was several yards away, but Granger had excellent aim. Pansy ducked as the jet of gold light came soaring toward her, and the hex missed her by mere inches.

Screaming threats and obscenities, Pansy rushed toward him and Granger, but before she could get very far she was restrained by Weasley, who gripped her shoulders tightly from behind.

"Let GO," she shrieked. "You utter bastard, let me go this instant!"

Looking up, Draco met Weasley's eyes and for a second – no, a fraction of a second – there was a look between them that was just sort of, "Great. Now What?" But it felt too friendly or something, so he averted his eyes and concentrated on holding Granger, who was determinedly trying to kick him in the balls.

Things might have come to a very interesting conclusion indeed if it hadn't been for a sound – a syllable, really – that caused all four of them to stop their struggling and stare in horror.

"Mrow."

Glaring at them with her lamp like, green eyes was none other than Mrs. Norris. All four students realized the import of this immediately, for whenever Mrs. Norris was around, one was sure to find –

"Wha' is it, my sweet?" came the raspy voice. "Is it students?'

Everyone remained frozen in their bizarre tableaux for about a second. Then –

"Shit!" whispered Draco fiercely. There was no time to discuss options. He dove behind a fairly large clump of bushes, taking Granger with him. He hoped Pansy and the Weasel had managed to stay hidden as well. Granger was shaking like a leaf next to him. They both froze completely, however, as soon as they heard the sound they were both dreading. Footsteps. Very close to them. Then, Filch's voice:

"Yes? Where are the nasty little students? I know I heard something…" It was agonizing not being able to see what was going on. Draco could only hope that he would decide that he'd been hearing things and leave.

Then they heard footsteps walking away from them. Draco heard Granger let out the tiniest of breaths, in sheer relief. Then – "AHA!" cried Filch.

He couldn't help it – he jerked up his head to see what was going on, as did Granger. It appeared that Mrs. Norris had led him to Weasley and Pansy's hiding place. He heard Pansy gasp – but he couldn't see her. Why couldn't he see her? Then it dawned on him.

The cloak. They had the cloak on!

Then, to his utter astonishment, he saw Pansy and Weasley stand up – well, he could actually only see their ankles and feet – and completely run for it. They positively flew! Filch gave a growl of annoyance and took off after them, but there was no way he would catch up with them. And since he hadn't actually seen their faces, it appeared that they were safe. However, he and Granger were fucked. Who knew if or when Filch would be back? Would they have to bloody stay out here all night?

"At least they're all right," said Granger in a small voice.

"Yeah," snapped Draco. "What about us?"

Granger shrugged. Draco sighed. This was going to be a looong night.

It felt to Pansy like they had been running for hours. Her legs ached, her ears were absolutely freezing, and her breath was coming in short, wheezing gasps. She stopped momentarily. She whipped the cloak off of them and threw it on a nearby log.

"Can't…"

Ron stopped and looked at her. Pansy had stopped and placed her gloved hand on a nearby tree, steadying herself.

"What?" he asked, annoyed.

"I can't run anymore," she managed to get out. "Besides, I – I don't think he's following us anymore."

"What makes you so sure?" he asked warily.

"I Vanished our footsteps as we ran. He won't be able to tell which way we've gone. And besides, he's got rheumatism or something. He would never have caught up with us."

Ron hadn't thought Pansy would be bright enough to think of the Vanishing spell. He was impressed despite himself.

"Please," pleaded Pansy. "Can't we just…sit down somewhere? At least for a minute or so?"

Ron looked as though he wasn't thrilled with that idea, but nodded briefly. "Fine. Okay. We should probably try Locating them, anyway."

"No!" hissed Pansy. "No magic! The sparks from our wands will lead Filch straight to us."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "You've really perfected the whole 'sneaking around' thing, haven't you?"

Pansy's lips quirked upward in a brief smile. "Well, I'm not in Slytherin for nothing."

Pansy could hardly believe herself. Why was she being so nice to him? He was a blood-traitor, plain and simple. One of many reasons why she shouldn't even be deigning to acknowledge his presence. She couldn't even begin to count the number of times that her father had belittled the Weasleys, called them horrible names, and sneered at their clothes and their freckles. Oh, if he could just see her now… On the other hand, there was something to be said for ticking off your parents, wasn't there? Weasley had good connections, famous friends, and a pedigree as impeccable as her own. And to Pansy's very great astonishment, she wasn't actually disliking the freckles either.

Her mind full of these thoughts, Pansy plunked herself down on a tree stump and re-applied the Heating Charm to her hands, ears, and feet. The charm she had cast earlier this evening was starting to wear off. She had carefully applied it before she started off with Draco, because she wanted to be totally relaxed and comfortable for the…for the….

"Oh, no!" wailed Pansy, jumping up from the stump and looking wildly around. She had no idea what she was looking for, but she couldn't just stand still! She had to find Draco, she just had to! The winter solstice wouldn't fall on a full moon for years and years… She couldn't believe that she had let herself be separated from him. On tonight of all nights.

"What's wrong?" asked Weasley, his bright blue eyes widening. Even in Pansy's state of distress, she noted that the question contained genuine concern. Draco's bored, drawling tones were the antithesis to Weasley's gentle lilt.

"I, uh… that is, Draco and I were supposed to do this…thing. A spell."

"So were we." Pansy snapped her eyes up to meet Weasley's.

Her mouth felt dry all of a sudden. "You were?"

He nodded. They had not broken eye contact yet. "Yes. At midnight."

Pansy's stomach kept sending sparks up into her throat and shooting them out into her extremities. There was a zinging energy moving so fast throughout her body that it felt like she was literally shaking. Almost without being aware of it, she walked forward a few steps, toward him. "You and Granger…"

"Yeah," he said. Pansy's heart was clenching and unfurling rapidly. She couldn't look away from him. What on earth was this? What was it? Was it just her, or had he moved closer as well? She thought he had. Yes, yes he had.

"So…" she heard herself ask, her voice pitched much higher than usual. "What time is it now, anyway?"

Weasley lifted his wrist up and glanced slowly down at his watch. His eyes widened. He brought the hand down and took a step closer to her.

Pansy stepped forward as well, not of her own volition. Their eyes locked once more. It felt so disturbingly right. So right, even in the midst of all this.

"Eleven fifty…." His voice sounded hoarse, and it trailed off early.

"Yes?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"It's…eleven fifty…" They were close enough to touch now.

He tried once more. "Eleven – Mmmmph!" And that was all he could get out, because at that exact moment Pansy had shot off from the ground, looped her left arm around his neck, and kissed him for all he was worth.

"NOOOO!" howled Draco. "GODDAMMIT, I SAID NO!"

"AAARGH!" screamed Hermione. "THIS! ISN'T! WORKING! OWW!"

The casual observer taking a stroll on Hogwarts grounds and running into Draco and Hermione would have thought that either both of them OR he himself needed a good long stay at St. Mungo's.

Draco and Hermione, being rather more clever than Pansy and Ron, had figured out immediately that the Binding Kiss would take place whether or not they were with their respective darlings. So after a quick planning session, during which much verbal abuse was heaped by and on both parties, the two of them had decided that it would be best if they sat far from each other, on opposite sides of the copse of trees in which they were situated.

Hermione had Transfigured a gum wrapper into a blanket and had sat gracefully down on it, wishing that she were asleep in her sinfully comfortable four-poster back at the castle.

Draco, meanwhile, was casually checking out Granger. Blaise, he decided, had been wrong. Granger definitely wasn't gorgeous. She did have a sort of virginal prettiness about her – which was refreshing, he supposed, if you liked that sort of thing. Her eyes were all right, and her arse was delectable, and her hair was definitely growing on him, and even her feet were dainty and cute, and okay, FINE, maybe gorgeous wasn't so far off after all.

But then with the zinging.

He started to feel it in his arms, a sort of pulling feeling. It seemed to be shoving him in Granger's direction. And Hermione, for her part, had started feeling this wickedly exciting fluttering in her stomach that got stronger every time she looked over at him.

They had both tried their absolute hardest to ignore the feelings, telling themselves that once it was 12:01, they would have missed their shot and the zinging and the fluttering would cease and desist.

No such luck.

Once it had hit 11:55, the zinging had gone into overdrive until Draco felt like he was being jolted by white-hot lightning. And Hermione felt like the butterflies in her stomach were performing dance routines. But instead of moving slowly closer, as Ron and Pansy had, they had consciously fought the feelings and moved farther away from each other. At midnight, their bodies acted as though they were magnetized to each other. Which leads us to the scene the stranger would have seen, had he come upon the intrepid duo.

Completely panicked, Draco had grabbed a hold of the tree he was nearest to, wrapping his arms and legs around its thin trunk and holding on with all his might. And Hermione, unable to get to a tree, was flat on her stomach, holding onto a small shrub that looked like it might not hold its ground for much longer.

"NOOO," shouted Draco again. "I'M SLIPPING! NOOO!"

"JUST HOLD ON!" shouted Hermione. "IT HAS TO STOP SOON!" They were so far away that they actually had to shout to hear each other.

"IT"S 12:05, AND IT'S ONLY GOTTEN STRONGER!" shouted Draco. "AAAUGGH!"

At precisely this moment, Hermione's fingers were pried off of the shrub by unseen forces and she shot across the snow-covered ground, following a path that led directly to Draco's tree.

"I'M SORREEE!" she shrieked as she skidded to a halt.

"STUPID MUDBLOOD!" screamed Draco, totally enraged.

It was all over for Draco. Having her so near increased the magnetic force by a factor of at least ten. He plummeted down from the tree, fetching up at the trunk. There was only time for the two of them to share a look of mute horror before Draco literally felt himself picked up and thrown on top of Hermione, who was forced to topple backwards from the sheer force of his weight. Before either of them could even draw breath again, Draco had wound his fingers in her hair, and slanted his mouth down over Hermione's, causing a few nearby icicles to melt from the heat of their thousand-degree kiss.